Possessed
by CatHasClaws
Summary: Becky has to fight to stay in control. But can she hold on long enough to be saved. And will Sam be able to do what needs doing? A short little one shot I cam up with while watching series 1 and 2 of Supernatural.


Everyone has a story to tell, some are boring and barely worth reading. Others are intense and full of adventure. My story is pretty hard to believe. Even I barely believe it, and I was there. That's the reason I wanted to make sure it was written down, so that I'd always know it happened. The truth is, despite how scary and unbelievable it was at the time, I don't want to forget it. It changed my life.

It was a regular spring evening, I was walking home from school, I was studying Psychology at the local University. And, well that's the last real thing I remember. There are shapes and sounds that sometimes come back to me in dreams, but nothing's clear. Until that night, that crazy, scary, life changing night. Suddenly I was standing over a man, with a machete in my hand and there was blood everywhere. I looked down to see a man, lying in a pool of his own blood. I killed this man. His name was Lawrence Wright, he was a banker from Idaho, he had two small children, a boy and a girl. There names are Billy and Alexandria, though her friends call her Alex. I send them presents and money when I can. I don't know what else to do, nothing I can say can make it right. I killed their father. And, I know what kind of hate that can build in a person.

You see, my own family was killed when I was just thirteen. My parents and my three younger brothers. Someone came into our house while we were sleeping, killed everyone in their beds and took me. I was rescued, about a week or so later, though I'm not entirely sure how long I was there. I saw things in that basement, things no child should ever have to see. Monsters, that's what they were, monsters.

Anyway, after I found myself stood over a man with blood on my hands, I realised I wasn't in control of my body. I was conscious, and I could see and hear everything, I could taste the blood on my lips, I could feel how fast my heart was beating. But, I couldn't move my own body. Someone else was doing that for me. I was so scared, my thoughts were screaming for someone to help me. But, no one could hear me. So, that's when I decided that I had to save myself.

For days I fought with this thing that was controlling me. I don't think it realised I was there until too late. It started off small, a few finger twitches, but then it snowballed. Within an our I had regained full control of body. But really, that was the easy part. Staying in control, now that was the hard part. I had to fight for every little movement, every breath I took. Whatever was inside me was trying to kill me, I knew it. A few times my hand started to reach for a knife, or whatever weapon was nearby. It was hard, but I fought it.

I had locked myself inside my motel room, no one was allowed in. I'd watched as this monster inside of me killed people, so many people. It had driven for miles just to kill someone, then turn around and drive again, to kill someone else. I didn't know what it wanted, but I wasn't going to let it kill anyone else. At night I chained myself to the bed, in case it broke free while I was sleeping. A few times I think it did, I woke with bruises and scratches all over my body. But, the chains I used were pure iron, which, I read online was supposed to keep this thing contained.

During the days was when I did all of this research, I scoured the internet looking for something about possessions that didn't sound totally nuts. Most of them said similar things, that iron and salt were the way to go when fighting a demon possession. Which, I guessed was what I had inside of me. A demon. As crazy and unreal as it sounds. I saw what it did, flinging men across rooms with nothing but the wave of the hand, _my_ hand.

I lived that way for about a week, I ordered take-out when I was hungry and drank water that I'd blessed to make it holy. I wasn't entirely sure it was going to work, but I felt that thing inside me get mad whenever I drank a bottle. I could only hope I was weakening it enough.

But, then they came. They came in the middle of the night actually, while I was sleeping, chained to my bed. I didn't know they were in the room until they started to talk above my head. It was dark and I couldn't see them, but I was scared.

"This isn't normal," I heard a voice whisper, "Why would it chain itself to the bed? And, is that iron? I mean a demon couldn't even touch iron," I stayed quiet.

"It doesn't matter Sam, we're here to kill the thing," Another voice argued, "Bobby said the pattern ended in Gainesville and this is where the trail leads,"

"But Dean, we can't just kill it," the other voice, I assumed must be Sam argued back, "What if there's someone still alive in there,"

"Oh, I'm still alive," I thought it was probably time to chime in, before I got killed.

I reached down for the key with my teeth. It was on a necklace, made from some of the spare iron. I wiggled my fingers and reached up to my mouth, snagging the key. I then unlocked myself. It was a skill that had taken time to master. I had to find a way that I could get out, but the thing inside me couldn't.

I flicked on the bedside lamp, and then I saw them. Of course, first I noticed their guns, which were pointed right at me. But, even in my state of complete terror, I couldn't help but notice how attractive they are.

"Okay, at this point in time, I really don't care who you are, I just wanna know if you can get this thing out of me," I was fighting back tears. I was so exhausted. I was only sleeping a few hours a night and during the day I was constantly struggling for dominance of this demon thing.

"Okay, now I'm confused," the shorter one said.

"What's your name?" the other one asked, he lowered his gun slightly. He had the kindest eyes I'd ever seen.

"My name's Rebecca, but um, you can call me Becky," I bit my lip.

"My name's Sam, and this is my brother Dean," The one with the kind eyes said, smiling. I noticed he also had a nice smile. I was getting a little distracted, so I looked away from him. Focusing on the power I felt from the demon, it was fighting so hard. Harder than it had all week.

"I think it's scared of you," I laughed to myself.

"You can feel it?" Dean asked, his face more than a little disgusted. Sam just looked concerned.

"Yeah, I mean it fights against me, I fight against it," I swallowed, "It's kind of like a painful battle of the wills," I smiled slightly.

"It hurts?" Sam asked, he touched my arm, as if to comfort me.

"Yeah, I mean, not that much, but there is a tiny little war going on inside me," I sighed, "I'm just tired of fighting,"

"It's okay, we're gonna help," Sam stroked my arm. I don't know if he even realised he was doing it, but I felt the electricity going up and down my arm. And my spine.

That's when the pain started. I couldn't help it, I called out in agony. It felt like my body was being ripped apart. For just a few seconds, and then it was gone.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, rushing to my side.

"Stay back," I called, "I don't want it to hurt you," I pushed him back, he was pretty strong but I managed to give him a fair shunt.

"She's right Sammy, stay away from it," Dean warned, looking at me as though I had a third eye and was carrying an AK-47.

"Dean, she's in pain, we have to help," Sam looked at his brother pleadingly. Another wave of pain hit, but this time it was centred on my lungs. It felt as though they were deflating and blowing up all at the same time. But, I couldn't breathe. I was choking for only a few seconds before I splutteringly started to breath again.

"You need to chain me back up," I realised, "I won't be able to hold this thing off for much longer," I let a few tears out.

"No, it's alright, we're gonna get rid of it," he turned and looked at his brother, "Right Dean?"

Dean looked a little skeptical.

"Sammy, you know how these things go," he still had his gun trained on my head, which surprising I wasn't really concerned about, but he looked a little sad.

"What is it?" I asked, although I knew the answer wouldn't be good, "Can't you get it out?"

"No Becky, we can get it out," Sam answered quickly.

"Yeah, but you might not survive the procedure," Dean looked at me flatly. I nodded. I wiped my eyes and grabbed the chains.

"Let's get this thing gone then,"

Dean grabbed a chair and started to draw around it. I wasn't sure what he was drawing but, I quickly got busy setting up the chair.

"I could use a hand," I said, looking at Sam, who was still sat on the edge of my bed, looking at me like I'd punched him in the gut, "What is it?"

"I don't understand," he shook his head, standing up, "This could kill you," he stepped close to me and I smiled. He truly is good looking.

"Yeah but, I've seen what it's done, I've felt what it's done," I bit my lip again, "I can't let it go on living, I can't let it use me to kill people," I took a deep breath, "I don't want to die, but I don't want this thing to live inside me anymore, so are you going to give me a hand or not?"

At that point I doubled up in pain, it felt like my insides were boiling. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe.

"Quickly! It's killing me, you don't have much time," I called through gritted teeth.

Someone picked me and put me on the chair. I felt the cold metal wrap around my wrists and ankles. And then the boiling stopped. Everything stopped.

"Something's wrong," I whispered, "You need to do it now,"

"What is it?" Dean asked, as Sam pulled a book out of his bag.

"It stopped fighting," I muttered, not paying as much attention to him as I was to Sam's book.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, but, at this point I wasn't even listening to him.

"Why do you have a picture of him?" I asked, noticing the picturing taped to the inside of the front cover of this old journal, that I felt like I'd seen before anyway.

"That's our dad, why?" Sam asked looking at me oddly.

And then the pain came back. It was worse than it had ever been. It felt like someone was trying to break my ribs and my spine from the inside.

"NOW!" I yelled. Then I couldn't keep the screams in. I was being torn in half. I felt the blood start to seep through my t-shirt. Soon it was practically soaked. I heard Sam's chanting, but I couldn't focus in anything but the pain. It was so great that I felt as though my head was going to explode, just from the sheer agony in my body.

And then I blacked out. Only for a few seconds. Long enough for the thing to have left me.

"Quick help me untie her," I heard Sam's concerned voice filled with panic. My mind was foggy, I was still in a lot of pain, but it wasn't as bad as before. I could bare it.

"You're gonna be okay," Sam laid me on the wooden floor.

"He'd be proud," I whispered, my voice was hoarse and my throat hurt from trying not to scream, and failing.

"Who?" Sam asked, leaning closer, he had tears in his eyes.

"Your dad," I smiled, I felt and tasted the blood in my mouth, "He saved my life once before, when I was just thirteen," My eyes fluttered, "He saved me from the monster under my bed, but he couldn't save them," I could feel myself losing consciousness, but I had to tell Sam.

"It's okay, you just rest, don't speak," Sam was actually crying a little now.

"Billy and Alex Wright, from Idaho," I coughed a little blood, "You need to look out for them," I felt the hot tears run down my cheeks, "I killed their dad, and you can't let that destroy them, you have to save them" I looked right into Sam's gorgeous eyes, we were both crying, "Just save them,"

And then everything went dark.

But, of course, you know that's not the end. I did wake up. I woke up in the back of an old American Muscle car, with two hot guys in the front. At first I thought I was dreaming. But, I guess I'm still living that dream.

I have to go now. Got things I need to hunt down and kill. Ya see, there are more of them out there, more Demons and Spirits and creatures. And, now I help Sam and Dean kill them, or send them back to hell. And, yes, Sam and I are kind of involved. But, that's a story for another time.

Now, I wonder if you believe me at all.


End file.
